


Bambam

by theflyinganonymouse



Series: powers au [3]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Gen, bambam being bambam, jackbam friendship, yugbam friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflyinganonymouse/pseuds/theflyinganonymouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bambam was thirteen when his world ended. <br/>It had come out of the blue. His day had been as normal as it ever was but then his mother had woken him in the middle of the night, his backpack already stuffed with clothes, and they had disappeared into the dark of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bambam

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long! I got caught up in the Fly hysteria - what an amazing song!! Also, I may or may not have been working on another story. Oops!

Bambam was thirteen when his world ended.

It had come out of the blue. His day had been as normal as it ever was but then his mother had woken him in the middle of the night, his backpack already stuffed with clothes, and they had disappeared into the dark of the night.

His mom hadn't told him what had happened or why they had left everything behind so suddenly but Bambam wasn't stupid, even if he was young. The people they passed in the streets were angry and it seemed like the whole city was vibrating with an energy ready to burst.

They didn't walk far that first night, instead taking refuge in a hotel far below the standards that Bambam was used to, and when they left early the next morning the city seemed ready to explode.

They stuck to side streets and the less populated areas of the city as they moved away from the centre and his mother made him wear hoodies and hats even during the intense heat of the days that followed. She never let him out of her sight, not even for a second, and during the nights locked away in dingy hotel rooms she clung to him so tight that he worried for his health.

“You're lucky.” She whispered into his hair one night. “That you're small for your age. They don't want to make children into monsters. It makes things easier, no one really looks at you twice.”

Bambam felt something like indignation rise in his chest at her words, not fully understanding their implications, but confusion won out. He, who had always been the centre of everyone's attention, who had been encouraged to demand the full attention of whatever room he found himself in, didn't know what it was like to be pushed to the side. He didn't want to become anonymous, a _nobody,_ but the fear on his mother's face was enough to make him keep his head down.

They walked and walked and his feet ached and he felt sick from the heat. They seemed to walk in circles down the same poorly kept streets and Bambam quickly lost his bearings. He passed the days feeling half-delirious, almost like he was caught in some strange and never ending dream, and he soon lost track of the days that had passed. He begged his mother on more than one occasion to let them catch a bus or a train to wherever it was that they were going but she always refused him, for the first time in his life denying him of something he wanted.

Time seemed to stretch into an eternity and then, one day, they stopped walking.

And, somehow, this was worse. They stayed in a filthy room that was only just bigger than the bed and they shared a dirty and disgusting bathroom with everyone else who was desperate enough to stay there.

Bambam hated it.

He had grown up to expect a certain standard of living and was both shocked and repulsed that his mom would make them stay in a place like this. She said it was for their safety but he argued that there were hotels out there that were much nicer than the one they were holed up in that also had much better locks on the door. She ignored him.

As the days passed he became more and more miserable as his mother became more on edge. She spent the majority of their days peering through the curtains and jumping at every little sound. He spent the days pulling the peeling wallpaper from the walls and practising changing his features into his favourite celebrities.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Bambam had looked straight at his mom and seen her tense. She motioned for him to stay on the bed as she moved to the door, only opening it the smallest of cracks and making sure her body blocked the view into the rest of the room.

There was a whispered conversation that Bambam didn't catch and then his mom was taking the door off the latch and pulling the door open.

“Get your things, baby.” She said and there were tears in her eyes. “Be quick.”

Bambam couldn't help but sneak glances at the man in the doorway as he stuffed his things into his backpack. He had a plain face and a haircut that didn't quite suit him but it was the man's suit that caught his attention. It was beautifully tailored and very obviously expensive, contrasting starkly with the shabbiness of their surroundings.

He smiled at Bambam when he caught him staring and Bambam was bold enough to ask him, “where did you get your suit from?”

“A tailors in Seoul.” He answered. “He has a fine eye for detail.”

“I want a suit like that.” Bambam said, not quite able to keep the envy from his voice.

The man's smile only widened further.

“The tailor has a very exclusive clientele.” He said.

“So?” Bambam shrugged. “I can be whoever I want.”

“Show me.”

Bambam took the image he had of the man in his mind, from his head to his feet, and pictured himself stepping into it and as soon as he did his muscles and bones began to creak and groan. It didn't hurt, he wouldn't do it if it did, and in seconds he was the man stood in front of him.

Bambam stood still as the man stepped forward to inspect him, circling him like shark, and he made sure to stand tall and proud.

“Good. Very good.” The man praised

Bambam smirked. Of course it was good, he had been doing this professionally for years. Didn't the man know who he was?

“But,” he continued, “I think you paid more attention to the suit than you did to my face. You see how I have a small scar on my face here?”

Bambam was crushed.

“You'll still take him?” His mom asked, fearfully, as Bambam shook off the man's image and shifted back to himself. She was clutching at his arm painfully tight.

“Take me?” Bambam asked. “Take me where?”

“Yes.” The man said, ignoring his questions. “We'll take him.”

Bambam threw his mother an incredulous look, “are you selling me? Is this what all this has been about?”

His mother laughed even as she started to cry, “do you really think anyone would be able to afford you?”

“I don't know – maybe. He has a really nice suit.” He shrugged and he didn't know whether he should be offended or not.

“I'm not selling you.” His mom said and she hugged him, resting her head on top of his. “But I am sending you away. I'm so sorry, I wouldn't do this unless I had no other choice but it's not safe here for people like you anymore. Not in this city, not in this country, and I have to think of your brothers and sister, too.”

“I don't understand.” Bambam said.

The gifted weren't popular in Thailand, he knew that, but he was different. He was _famous_. Normal rules didn't apply to people like him.

“Maybe it's best that you don't. Just... be a good boy, okay? Do what you're told and try not to get into too much trouble. I love you so much, my little star. Never forget, okay? This man – he works for a company that looks after children like you. He's going to take you somewhere safe.”

'Somewhere safe' turned out to be both very far away and very different from home.

Not that he hadn't been to Korea before, because he had, loads of times, but the place he had been dumped was just so grey and _boring_. He was used to beautiful places, interesting people and flashing lights and the complex was lacking in all three departments. The only place that looked interesting was the big building and he had been expressly warned by the bigger kid who had shown him around to stay away from there.

The kids, too, were boring. He was forced to share a room with a painfully shy boy almost twice his height who didn't appreciate that Bambam was kind of a big deal. He used up his whole internet allowance on his first afternoon taking his roommate through the finer points of his filmography. The boy wasn't impressed and Bambam lamented wasting his time on someone who clearly didn't know talent when he saw it.

“Bambam.” His mother scolded him when he told her about the boy on the first of his weekly calls. “This might be the first time he's ever been away from home. Be kind to him and, for goodness' sake, learn his name!”

The boy's name was Yugyeom he found out when he finally decided to ask. Not that that helped much. Yugyeom ignored him outside of their room, even though they shared nearly all their lessons together, only the extra Korean tuition Bambam received being by himself. He sat with a group of older boys at mealtimes and there was at least one of them in all their classes, mostly a boy that smiled at Bambam a little bit too much but there was another who looked far too sensible to be any kind of fun, and Bambam was left to sit with the little kids.

It had been fun at first because they listened to all his stories with wide eyes and treated him like some kind of rock star but they had short attention spans and his Korean, while pretty good, wasn't enough to make the stories exciting enough to keep their interest for long.

It wasn't long before he started to desperately miss home.

“I don't like it here.” He sobbed down the phone to his mother on the second of his weekly phone calls. “The other kids are mean and the lessons are hard. Please can I come home? I'll be good, I promise. Just let me come home.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” His mother said and she sounded close to crying, too. “I'm sorry, you can't. It's too dangerous here.”

“You're lying!” He shouted. “You just don't want me anymore, that's why you sent me away. Why? What did I do wrong?”

“Bambam-!”

But he hung up before she could say anything further.

He stormed to their room, intending to throw himself down onto his bed and cry all his frustrations out, but Yugyeom was already sitting at his desk doing his homework.

He frowned when he saw the tears running down Bambam's face and asked, “are you okay?”

He looked so concerned and his voice was so soft and Bambam saw red.

“No, I'm not okay!” He snapped. “Because you're here! With your big face and your stupid hair. You're so annoying. Why are you here? Why can't you just leave me alone? I didn't ask to be put in a room with _you_.”

Yugyeom started to cry but Bambam didn't care. So what if he had hurt the other boy's feelings? Yugyeom hadn't cared about his before now.

“You're such a cry baby.” Bambam yelled even though he was crying, too. “Why don't you just grow up and leave me alone?!”

Yugyeom stormed from the room and when he slammed the door shut the wood splintered and the door came off its hinges. He didn't stop to try and fix it and Bambam, spitefully, hoped he got into trouble for it.

Some of the little kids came out of their rooms to see what the commotion was and one of the two supervisors, the one that Bambam thought he could like if she thought about what she was wearing a little more, came to make sure that no one had been hurt.

“Where's Yugyeom?” She asked with a sigh.

“He left.” Bambam told her.

“That boy.” She said but she didn't sound as angry and Bambam had hoped she would.

She made him help her tidy it up and didn't ask him once why he was crying or try to offer him any kind of comfort.

It made him miss his mom and home even more and that night as he tossed and turned in bed, a sheet covering the bare doorway and Yugyeom's bed empty, he seriously began to consider running away.

He'd be able to do it, he didn't doubt that. He'd be able to climb over the fence somewhere or shift into the features of one of the guards and make his way out through the front gates with no problems. It was beyond the complex that worried him. He couldn't drive and he didn't have any money so he had no idea how he'd get to Seoul. He didn't even know how far away it was and he refused to walk for what could potentially be days. He'd had enough of walking.

It reminded him too much of the last few days he'd spent with his mom.

And what if he did get to Seoul? What then? He didn't have enough money to call his parents from a payphone, never mind the flight home.

He felt stuck and his chest ached. He spent more time crying than sleeping that night as he ran through the long list of hopeless scenarios in his head. He just wanted to go home.

He felt like a zombie the next morning and chose to sit at a table by himself instead of in his usual spot with all the little kids. He wasn't in the mood to have them bothering him.

He had seen Yugyeom sat at his usual table with the older boys and Bambam made sure to sit with his back to him so he didn't have to look at him. However, that meant he didn't notice one of Yugyeom's friends leave their table and walk over to him until their breakfast tray landed with a crash on his table.

“So, how are you going to do it?” The boy asked before eating a large mouthful of cereal.

“How am I going to do what?” Bambam refused to meet his eyes even as his heart began to pound in his chest. Yugyeom had obviously told his friends about what had happened the night before and now Bambam was in for it. He thought about trying to make a speedy exit, first from the food hall and then from the complex all together, but thought it would be better to stay somewhere where there were witnesses.

“How are you planning on running away?” The boy elaborated. “Climbing the fence? You know those guns the guards carry aren't just for show, don't you?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Bambam said, quickly, but then the implication of the other's words hit him and his face fell. “They wouldn't shoot us kids, would they?”

Getting shot wasn't high on his list of things to do, even if it meant making it home. He wanted to get there in one piece.

“Maybe, maybe not.” The boy shrugged. “I guess it depends on how rare your gift is.”

“You're lying.” Bambam said but he didn't feel as sure as his words made it seem.

The boy laughed, “where are you from, then? Yugyeom's not told us very much about you apart from that you showed him a load of commercials on your first day.”

“They were more than just commercials.” Bambam frowned, hurt. “They were my best work.”

“He said they were nice.” The boy said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “Just that he didn't understand why you showed them to him.”

“Because I was in them all!” Bambam told him.

The boy let his hands drop back to his side and scrunched up his nose, “are you sure? I'm pretty sure Yugyeom would have noticed if you were in them.”

“Of course I'm sure, I-.” Then realisation hit him. “Oh.”

“What?”

“I didn't tell him what my gift is.” Bambam said. He motioned at his face and, with an audible groan from the shifting of his muscles, his features changed into those of one of the characters from one of his most recent commercials. “See?”

The other boy laughed so loudly and, in Bambam's humble opinion, obnoxiously that they had most of the food hall looking in their direction.

“What's so funny?” He asked but he was fighting a smile of his own, knowing full well his mistake.

The boy just laughed louder, his whole body folding in two as he cradled his stomach. Bambam found it amusing at first but, as the minutes ticked by, he became increasingly put out.

“Hey.” He crossed his arms across his chest and pouted. “It's not that funny.”

“I'm sorry.” The boy wheezed and he fought to get his breathing under control. He did so, finally, and as he wiped the tears from his eyes he said, “I'm Jackson, by the way.”

“And I'm-.”

“I know who you are, Yugyeom told us.” Jackson said and is eyes slid to the watch on his his wrist and he swore. “I've got a tutorial, I'm going to be _so_ late.”

But he didn't move to leave, instead shovelling his breakfast into his mouth. Bambam watched him with his own mouth hanging open in disgust.

“What?” Jackson asked through a mouth full of food. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“That's disgusting.”

Jackson just smiled.

“You should eat lunch with us.” Jackson said once he was finished. “The others will love you.”

“But-.” Bambam started to protest, knowing just because Jackson had been nice to him that it didn't mean that anyone else would be. Especially Yugyeom.

“Apologise and it'll be fine.” Jackson assured him. “Yugyeom's a sweet kid, he'll forgive you if you ask him to.”

“Do you think so?” Bambam asked.

“Yeah. His hyungs on the other hand...” Jackson gave him a stern look, “they might not be as quick to forgive.”

Bambam gulped.

But the morning went on mostly the same as it usually would. Bambam sat by himself during lessons and Yugyeom ignored him completely. The quiet boy continued to smile to him but the sensible one glared whenever he caught Bambam looking in their direction. It made his stomach churn every time it happened and he dreaded lunch time rolling around.

He had made his mind up to skip lunch by the time lessons ended for the morning, never mind how much his stomach rumbled, but as he and the other students filed out of the classroom he found himself caught between the serious boy and Yugyeom.

His mind worked furiously as he tried to think of something to say, all the while trying to avoid looking in either boys' direction.

“Jackson says that you're going to eat lunch with us.” Yugyeom said quietly, looking at his feet.

“Yeah.” Bambam muttered, shocked that Yugyeom had spoken to him first. It threw him off-guard, made him feel uncertain. “If that's okay?”

“Why wouldn't it be?” Yugyeom shrugged.

“I just thought after last night...” It was the closest Bambam had come to an apology in years, at least one that wasn't scripted, and it felt odd.

“We won't be having any repeats of that now, will we?” The serious boy asked, fixing Bambam with a stern glance that had Bambam flushing bright red.

“Jinyoung hyung...” Yugyeom complained and Bambam saw that he was blushing, too.

Jinyoung let out a short sigh and he suddenly looked annoyed, “how many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“But it's your name.” Yugyeom said, stubbornly. “Jackson hyung told me. He said to call you it.”

“And if Jackson told you to jump from the top of the big building, would you?”

Yugyeom seemed to actually contemplate it and Jinyoung's eyes widened, “don't even think about it.”

“But-.” Yugyeom started.

“What do you like to be called?” Bambam asked him.

“Junior.” Jinyoung replied.

Bambam wrinkled his nose, “that's stupid.”

“Excuse me.” Jinyoung looked outraged. “Don't they call you Bambam?”

“That's different.” Bambam said. “My mom gave me this name.”

“And my mother gave me this one.” Jinyoung replied.

“You're lying, hyung.” Yugyeom said. “Jackson told me-.”

“You shouldn't believe everything that Jackson tells you.” Jinyoung warned.

“He thinks Jackson is a bad influence.” Yugyeom whispered to Bambam, his hand covering the beginnings of a smile and his voice just loud enough for Jinyoung to overhear. “But I think he's just jealous because Jackson is the cool hyung.”

Jinyoung sighed again, “why are you like this?”

Yugyeom smiled sweetly at him and Bambam laughed.

They were outside now and there was more room to move as the small crowd of students went in different directions but Bambam didn't move away from the other boys now that he had the chance. He didn't know what he had been worrying about.

 _You should still apologise properly._ A voice said in his head as the quiet boy wrapped his arms around Jinyoung's shoulders from behind and planted a quick kiss on his cheek much to Jinyoung's horror. _Yugyeom deserves that much._

Jinyoung was shrugging the quiet boy off him now, his eyebrows furrowed but obviously trying to fight back a smile even as Yugyeom pretended to be sick.

 _Who are you?_ Bambam asked, certain he'd never seen heard that voice before. _Are you my conscience?_

The quiet boy stopped suddenly and seemed to choke for a moment before bursting into laughter so loud and, Bambam thought, just as obnoxious as Jackson that Bambam couldn't help but wince. He wondered if it was a requirement to hang out with Yugyeom and his friends. He hoped not.

“What?” Yugyeom asked. “What's so funny?”

But then he and Jinyoung were laughing, too.

“I don't get it.” Bambam said.

 _No, I'm not your conscience._ The same voice said again. Then the quiet boy waved at him and Bambam sighed. _My name is Mark._

“That's not fair, hyung. Why can't you just talk out loud?” Bambam complained.

“Because he's lazy.” Yugyeom told him, matter of factly. “Jackson hyung told me.”

Mark shrugged and his voice sounded in Bambam's head, this time accompanied with a slight echo and a hum that didn't stop even when the voice did, _it's true._

“You shouldn't encourage him.” Jinyoung said.

Lunch was the four of them and Jackson and it was the most fun Bambam had had since arriving at the complex. Bambam had never really spent that much time around kids his own age having spent so much of his time on one set or another, surrounded by grown ups. It felt good sitting around and being silly, though, he was a bit put out that none of the other boys seemed to be impressed by his fame, except maybe Jackson. Not that that stopped him from telling them all about it.

The afternoon went quickly sat between Yugyeom and Mark, Jinyoung having joined Jackson in the upper class for lessons, and Bambam doubted he had really learnt anything by the time the end of the day rolled around. He and Yugyeom had too much to talk about and Mark had no kind of attention span, distracting the two of them whenever they got remotely close to actually settling down and doing schoolwork.

Bambam met Jaebum at dinner and, despite his intimidating appearance, he was just as funny and welcoming as the others even if he teased Bambam a little bit too much to say that they had only just met. Bambam found, however, that he and Yugyeom made a good team when it came to getting back at the hyungs and he was able to give as good as he got. Especially as Jackson seemed to switch sides with whoever seemed to be winning their little contest of words at any given time and Mark would occasionally supply them with ammunition whenever they seemed to be running low.

The thought of running away didn't cross his mind again.

“Yugyeom.” Bambam whispered as they lay in bed that night, a new door in place and both of them happier than they had been the night previous. “Are you still awake?”

“Hmmm.” Yugyeom murmured.

“You need to wake up.” Bambam told him. “This is important.”

“I _am_ awake.” Yugyeom muttered but he didn't really sound it.

“Good.” Bambam smiled into the darkness. “I've had a really good day today. Your friends are really nice.”

“They're your friends now, too.” Yugyeom told him.

“Are you sure?” Bambam asked and he felt, suddenly, like he was on shaky ground. “I was very mean to you.”

“You were.” Yugyeom agreed and he sounded more awake now. “But you were sad. Sometimes people say things they don't mean when they're sad or angry.”

“Yeah.” Bambam said, lamely. He was quiet for a moment or two before swallowing his pride and adding, “I am sorry for what I said, though. I don't really think you have a big face.”

“But you do think my hair is stupid?”

Bambam didn't say anything.

“It's meant to look like Mark's.” Yugyeom told him and Bambam could hear the pout in his voice. “Do you think I should get it cut?”

“I would.” Bambam said as kindly as he could.

They were quiet for a couple of minutes and Bambam thought Yugyeom had fallen asleep. He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes, ready to sleep at last.

“I-.” Yugyeom said, suddenly. “I didn't mean to cry last night. I'm not usually a crybaby but... Things were hard before I got here. I can't always stop myself. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” Bambam told him. “I would have cried, too, if someone was being as mean to you as I was. There's nothing wrong with crying when things like that happen.”

“Is it okay if we forget about it?” Yugyeom asked.

“Yeah, okay.” Bambam said.

“Okay. Good.” Yugyeom said and then added after a short pause, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Bambam replied.

When he spoke to his mother on the third of his weekly calls, he was in a much better mood than the last time. He told her all about his new best friend Yugyeom, the inside jokes they had and the tricks they had played, and all about the other boys, too. He told her about Jinyoung running through the door to their room after he and Yugyeom had played a trick on him and the way that he had tickled them both so much that they had ended up crying. He told her about how funny Jackson was and how impressed he had been when Bambam had shown him some of his commercials. He told her about how Jaebum pretended to be all calm and cool but he was really one of the kindest people Bambam had ever met, even if he didn't hold back when he teased him. He told her about Mark and how it didn't feel like he really was the oldest hyung, sometimes.

“I'm so glad you're feeling better.” His mom told him and he could tell by her voice that she meant it.

And he was.

Though the lessons were hard and the tutorials he had to do pushed him beyond what he thought the boundaries of his gift were, he found he didn't mind too much. He had friends now and that made everything easier. The hyungs were constantly looking out for him and made sure he knew that he had someone to talk to whenever he was feeling down and Yugyeom was the best friend he could have asked for. He was funny and kind and even if he got quiet sometimes he'd always still make time for Bambam if Bambam needed someone to listen to him.

But, there was still an ache deep within him sometimes that couldn't easily be shaken. It was missing home and missing the life he had had where he had been the centre of everyone's attention. It was missing being special.

It hurt.

The others didn't really understand, never mind how much they tried, and Bambam didn't have the words to explain what the ache meant. They coddled him and tried to make jokes and Bambam was always touched by how much his happiness meant to them.

Jackson was the one who always tried the hardest and Bambam thought he might have been the only one out of the lot who was even close to understanding how Bambam felt when the ache was present. He was good to him. He'd give him his dessert if he thought Bambam needed some extra sweetness and would treat him to meat if they went into Seoul on a Saturday and he was feeling down.

He liked to make Bambam feel special when that was exactly what Bambam needed. He sometimes thought Jackson was his biggest fan.

Weeks and months passed and the ache didn't appear as often as it had at the beginning. Bambam and Yugyeom moved into the same flat on the third floor as the hyungs and life was good. Lessons hadn't gotten any easier but he was getting used to them and he was getting better and better at pushing his powers beyond what he had always thought they were. The boys were the best friends he had ever had.

He was happy.

“Do you still think about it?” Jackson asked him one night as they laid on the floor of his room, the others still out at lessons.

“Think about what?”

“Running away.”

Bambam thought hard for a moment, “I can't even remember the last time I thought about it.”

“Good.” Jackson gave him a megawatt smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I'm glad. You're our brother now.”

“Yeah.” Bambam breathed and he couldn't help a smile of his own. “I guess I am.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> What do you guys think? Did you like it? Please let me know. Also big thanks to both of my sisters who have both beta read. You are both good people. (Are you happy now??) Thank you for reading!


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